What happens to 'her' afterwards?

What happens to 'her' afterwards? Nothing much; but...

When chaos settled in her surroundings...

She tries to make sense of it all...what just (had) happened?

She starts to piece memories together....

The happy and warm ones for her lonesome lost nights...

The unforgettable harsh ones to fight the day...wearing her armour - a smile and grace.

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...

She fails to understand why tears swell in her eyes and why morsel of her meals choke her...

All of it while listening to happy songs!

Has her mind forgotten the meaning of happiness? Or her heart being used often?

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...

She tries to find an anchor, an escape from dwelling questions in her mind...

By being out there - with change; of Place, People - she meet or chooses not to,

Or just in the meaningless busyness in the mundane.

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much, but

'Her world' shrunken... In conscience and in physicality, 

further on timelines of life and lifelessness 

She experiences myriad emotions in a blink of eye.

She isn't afraid of the chaos or stillness but dreaded!, rather feels challenged...

By Her own ethical boundaries and beliefs 

By Her own understanding of who 'she' is now And to 'whom?'

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...

She now doubts herself forever more...

If every single time the 'trust' she relay out to the world, to join hands...

If she is meant to shed every ounce of her dignity, her character...?

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...

She goes in and out of such cycles of woundless hurt,

Wonders if 'her' choices or mistakes can be forgiven...if there is a way back or if there exists her piousness...

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...

Keeping mum to the world...her knowledge of self paints a different story..

With colors of Dark and doomed, betrayed or abandoned...

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much, but..

She muster-up courage in her broken shattered being...to believe that, possibly some day her path will lead her towards light...

That, a day would come when she wouldn't seek peace and belonging outside... rather she will breath her last in ease and glory.

A Travelogue - Inside out

While enroute to BLR from Nagpur...Freezing on the uppermost birth of IRCTC Rajdhani express 3rd AC coach...

Before shutting my eyelids and retiring for the day, a day that that was loaded with hysterical laughter over the memory of damaged Hotel TV cabinet (coz I rested my butts on it) and all the failed efforts that went into covering it up yet ended-up breaking ceramic mugs and drink glasses which slided down along with the white tray, right in-front of my eyes... like an ice-berge. Along with others, I stood holding the cabinate, controlling the bout of laughter for not being able to stop anything from dropping on the floor and making a smash! And the room was full of myraid expressions, each deciphering what is it that they were witnessing - an intent or accident?

(Clink, clink and shatter) ...one after the other ceramic mugs dropped on the floor and shards
were lying all around the TV cabinet (our hands were bearing the load of TV cabinet that came off from the anchors, drilled in the wall).

There was something so relieving in this madness, possibly the "letting go".
Letting go off the urge to fix and knowing that I was surrounded by like-minded friends who are all laughing along which also gives me an insight and a momentary self reflection time that sometimes it's not all about the self and could be more about the other...eg. quality of TV cabinet in this case

The day started with a rushed-hushed breakfast, and then seeing off my friends at Nagpur railway stations or rather they saw me off....and that last posing for group pic at the railway station near the busy car parking area untill we realised we will be soon caught by the local police and we dispersed as if we were never there :)

I was meandering at the platform waiting for my train which was running late by two hours.
And as a pass time activity, I captured a few pics... the old architecture of the railway station had a very earthy feeling to it...my heart felt at home and I just wanted to capture it all...the bustling platforms with travelers walk-in and out, hawkers setting up there stalls as the day kicks-in, the view of giant hanging bridge next to the station walkover bridge and was a spectacular view to capture with the contrast of an ancient (slow paced) vs new built-up (fast paced) ..

I snacked on few fruits and then settled back recalling repeatedly about the amazing time we all had at Pench international and also all that predecessor events that had me almost calling off this trip...and I am now glad that I decided against it and joined hands with the flow of time...

Jumping back to now (while inside the train), I completed reading - All the love that you deserve (author Preeti Shenoy) and strangely that book was all I needed at the moment in my life. It made me wonder how God or the supreme energy has a plan for me to be entertained,

helped and loved and it's only at me to be more willing and open about it ....and above all be trusting if it.

The problem is never "Love"

The problem is never Love, rather it is the faith and trust - on one's own self!

In times of dilemma, doubt or isolation ...it's never a question of - am I loved or do I feel the love for the other...?. The depth lies a step further....do I trust the piousness of 'the emotion of love that I feel?'. Does that gives me a confidence in my life or does it makes me feel broken, shattered and hopeless? Does it gives me strength drawn from an invisible source of faith to carry-on with the life and in the knowing that - I am being taken care off and that it's all in the best interest of all.

I see, it is an act of giving...giving the precious time and attention; may be to self or the other partner or a dear one in family or friends.

Never will it be easy or a smooth ride and it will test the roots of our patience but in return it will peel off the unwanted and let the spirit shine, the energy and light that the heart carries will illuminate our being and world around us.

It is also an act of endless forgiveness which starts from one's own self. The dust of guilt that we let settle-in on our identities and hearts, which then interferes with our natural course of beliefs, actions or thoughts clouds the purity and misguides us.

Another factor is that of Ego and wall that we build with it - against the 'self acceptance' and which dictates the voice in our heads! That, we cannot be accepting of our own flaws and shortcomings as if it's a crime or will make you loose your power, that we do fear welcoming Goodness in our lives, that it will create a vacuum and what will happen to the habitual chase that has so far kept us busy with a sense of purpose and false fulfillment...

And lastly, we all get attached to the experience of love, especially when it is outwardly fulfilled and it keeps us intact in big picture of life like any another piece of a jigsaw puzzle - unique, important in its order, placement and proximity. Let the faith be bigger than our doubts and let the freedom to flow with life be the mantra which guides the path ahead.

💖

P.s. - Jai Siya Ram!

My heart ached at every happiness that came my way...

My heart ached at every happiness that came my way...

'My 1st ever offical US trip getting thru...'

I looked back to see if I have anyone to share these...

Held back bubbling tears, chocked but choose happy 'to be'...

Checked the chat window a thousand times to feel what it feels to have the conversations while we are alive...but active none.

My heart ached; not with the mistakes I made....The second bite of meat I ate....

My heart ached when I looked back, to see if I would be soothed by the words- shit happens...it's ok.. forget it and move on..

But heard none...

My heart ached; when I stepped at those royal steps....(The Leela palace)

How a girl from a small town who was so scared of sophistication and considered herself a misfit

But she never had to look back coz a voice was always had her back, assuring - she has all that it takes!

But saw no-one...

A room full of people were cheering for me and I stood there in disbelief.....

In the realisation of 'how far I have come'...or was it the escape I found in dedication at work.

My heart ached, flood gates of tears now open...I gave-up hiding, fighting, escaping ...knowing my heart wasn't home.

My heart ached  at every happiness that came my way...

Imerging women-hood

Without her conscious awareness, she started to lean into letting her long hair loose and flowing. This brought a deep sense of comfort and a peculiar sort of freedom... perhaps rooted in acceptance and being at ease with the present moment, without unnecessary manipulation.

 

(Picture from FreePik)

Her tightly-wound bun had become a part of her identity. She held an underlying belief that it kept her grounded and focused amidst the uncertainty and inexplicable chaos of life. It was also a matter of convenience, requiring little to no maintenance.

Ironically, much of this chaos was self-cultivated; it stemmed from unattended fears that drove her to seek security with a foundation of fragile trust. Yet, alongside these emotional shackles, she yearned to discover her true self...

A strand of hair slipped from the bun, cascading down followed by another, due to their silky texture and she felt increasingly at home and at ease. Surprisingly, she wasn't rushing to fix or tie those hairs back (as she had been conditioned to do for years). Instead, she felt a sense of womanhood emerging from within.

Just a simple line...

When one draws it, it is called as boundary, And sometimes a representation of a beginning; a start of some sort.

When crossed, it is a betrayal.
Segmented, adds new dimensions.

When held, it is firmity.

When doodled with, it is an expression - an art
When sent, conveys a message

The most simplest yet sophisticated,
Flexible, hence infinite - a line.

At times visible, at times ignored...

Poetry is what it is, when composed.

Just a simple line...

अभी दिल दुखाने की माफ़ी माँगनी बाकी है...

अभी दिल दुखाने की माफ़ी माँगनी बाकी है...
जो वादे किये थे साथ निभाने के, उससे मुकर जाने की गुस्ताखी अपनानी बाकी है।

सुना था "हर प्यार मिलन तो नहीं, बिछड़ना भी तो प्यार ही है"; जाना आज कि  - हम भी इस किस्से के भागी हैं

जब अपना ही आसमां अपना न लगे,
कैसे हम कोई दूसरे आशियाने की चाह रखें?

माना मुश्किल है डगर आगे...
अकेला सा अहसास होगा,
पर यकीन रखना जब तक है सांस...
जादू का तुम में वास होगा।

तुम्हारी माफ़ी के काबिल शायद अब हम नहीं...
इसलिए खुदा से एक वादा मांगा..

साया हो तेरे सर पर हमेशा - प्यार का, 
आंखों में सपनों की चमक,
दरिया हो दिल में - सूकुन का,
हर गुज़रते दिन में तू रहे 'लम्हो' की ताज़गी सा